12/22/2005

A Comedy Gift

A gift from Sisyphus to you all.

The Big Yin vamps on The Crucifixion. This was before he became court jester. Raw & very Scottish. Marvellous. I'm curious if all you non-Scots can actually understand him. Let me know.

Goat boy is dead. Long live Goat Boy. Bill Hicks is supreme as he bombs mightily in Chicago. Poor quality, particularly at the beginning, but hugely worth sticking with. I am a goat child.

I'll keep these available as long as I can technically and legally do so.

12/15/2005

mmmmm...

12/12/2005

you can take that to the comedy bank

I've been out of the loop for few days. No bad thing as I found myself getting overly introspective and backwardly focused. Over it now.

Took the reigns and decided to get back onto the stand-up circuit. Called a mate who runs a club in north london. Got me a gig and stood up last night.

Deep joy!

Great to be back in front of a live audience.

My set was woefully out of date. My technique was rusty. The audience was sparse. But it was a GREAT experience.

I went through all the usual trauma beforehand. From blind terror. total self doubt and many 'what the hell was I thinking?' moments. You're never less funny than just before you go on. But as soon as I got on the stage it kicked in.

My aim last night was to hold their attention and entertain - laughter was a bonus. And indeed they did - sometimes.

I had taken a lot of older material and tried to update and augment it. Some of it still worked but a lot needs to be put out to grass. Unfortunately, it can be very difficult to know beforehand which is which.

My writing has improved and is coming more easily which is lovely. All the ingredients were there. However, the only way to tell what works is to get up there and do it. It's like baking a cake. You can mix the raw ingredients any way you like but it's only when you subject it to the fire of the oven that you prove that it works. Some of my comedy souffles did indeed sink - but not all.

I still suffer from the classic actor-turned-standup problem of being over scripted and somewhat over characterised. Rather than just getting up their and dealing with whatever happens my instinct is to hide behind the script and impose myself on the situation.

Also I think I came over as somewhat overly aggresive. My current set does require some 'tude but aggression can also be a little cowardly - best form of defence and all that. I need to sit back a little.

The key to that is a greater breadth of material and gigs.

So, cake baked, it's inspired me to re-write the set, get writing in general and, more importantly, get gigging again. No bad thing.

You never know, I might even post a video of my first gig if I'm feeling sufficiently narcissistic. I call it my 'Bush Meat' set.

12/04/2005

one codpiece for sale. barely used

Ain't heard from my agent since the last posting. Not convinced that he is in reality doing anything other than fielding enquiries and opportunities that I send his way.

To be frank I am beginning to think that my race has been run - as an actor that is.

I've spent the last ten years throwing myself on the barbed wire only for others to run over me. I suppose my implicit expectation was that they'd stop to give me a hand, but no, off they sprinted onto the career launch-pad.

It's them pesky expectations again (see Grating Expectations). We may not consciously have them but by their very nature they are there and ready to trip you up before dancing round your head like tweaty-pie stun birds in a Tex Avery cartoon.

One such expectation is that I would eventually find a place; that out of the thousands of aspirants I would be able to make my impression and find my niche. We thousands, we happy thousands, throw ourselves at the rabbit fence and my assumption was that I was smart enough and talented enough to be running over the lessons of others and prevailing rather than providing the lessons and receiving another bootprint on my head.

Not hugely depressed by this just somewhat resigned.

Neophyte actors are like newly hatched tortoises washing up on the shore, scrambling for purchase and then being sucked back out by the undertow. How strong are you? How far do you have to fight? Survival is a lottery of your genetic heritage and where on the beach you hatched. So, as with acting, success is determined by where your are laid and by whom. Boom Boom!

The key thing for me at the moment is that I am sick to my bones of living hand to mouth for no other reason than to be available. I feel like the 'other woman'. He rarely calls and when he does all he wants is swift, secretive gratification doing those things 'she' won't do for him.

I find the thought of returning to wage slavery anathema. However, I have been working on a rather neat internet business idea and I am sorely tempted to quit the arena for some time in order to get the thing established.

I have been nurturing the idea for years and over the course of this year I have been building the product and web-store. Initially, it was simply an academic exercise but recently I have found the whole process to be more and more challenging. Also, as I have been applying energy to it the products and services have been evolving - to the extent that I am convinced that it could be a significant success. It uniquely combines my business, computing and acting expertise.

I need some success in my life.

I am thoroughly jaded and feel that this is partially down to my own false expectations of making a living through acting. If I were able to establish a solid financial base then the reality of one, maybe two, decent acting jobs a year becomes a joy rather than a curse.

Of course, if I were to hang up my codpiece, there is always the casting aphrodisiac of unavailability. As soon as you leave the cathouse all the johns come begging.

12/01/2005

sisyphus is bleeding

Sisyphus is pissed off. In a self-obsessed, actorly, pico-perspective kind of fashion rather than the righteous , pro-active indignation of Mr Hoffman-Gill (hat tip. or should that be helmet?).

Aside from desperately panning for comedy in my many notebooks I am bereft of creative outlets at the moment. This frustration has been building and that particular bodkin has been salted and twisted by this business-that-we-call-show over the past day or so.

Excuse the flowery syntax but I have been dipping into Soul Thoughts of a Troubled Actor and the 'Loitering With Intent' memoirs by Peter O'Toole and it's rubbed off. So if your hoping for simplicity 'your tea is oot' as they say in Jimmy McGovern's Glasgow. Hell, maybe i'll just mix up the two styles. Onwards.

Yesterday. Morning. Writing. Editing. Deleting. Depressed. Drowning in a murk of pointlessness.

Mobile rings.

"Hello... Sisyphus?"

"Yes."

"My name is NationallyRenownedCastingDirector (NRCD). I was given your name by NationallyKnownActress (NKA) who recommended you very highly."

Cooled by the depths of my despondency I proceeded to clarify the requirement on realising that this was a 'casting' call:
  • "National tour including Scotland" : I could feel a police diver attach a line to my submerged ego.
  • "No 1 Tour" : The line tightens and I start to rise.
  • "Revival of a classic piece" : I breach the surface sucking in the light and oxygen
  • "Great cast" : I rise, the Sun burning off the slime.
  • "NationallyRespectedDirector (NRD)": Resplendent, I embrace the light.
  • "We're looking for an under-study" : Splash!
She then proceeded to build up the (non-)part and the money was rubbish, in other words normal for theatre.

The flattery of being approached by NRCD on a recommendation by NKA and being directed by NRD carried the process on overnight with me trying to figure out some justification for saying yes and with A.Gent clarifying the exact deal with NRCD.

You still with me luvrs?

I specified that there was no point in my taking this on unless I could be guaranteed at least one performance. A.Gent put that to NRCD and we put it to bed.

On waking I knew that I could not afford to take it on. My dears - proper, grown-up, professional theatre in the UK pays £300 per week before tax and deductions for your agent. That amounts to less than £250/wk. An insult methinks.

A.Gent calls in the afternoon and tells me that they cannot guarantee a performance. They may be able to make it happen on a nod and a wink but not contractually as they had already issued the contracts and could potentially get into 'a lot of trouble' if they customised one purely to get Sisyphus on board.

My dears, I knocked back the offer from the NRCD and the opportunity to work with NKA once more under NRD.

This was a first for me as 'till now I've been a boy who just can't say no.

Pissed off and pointless.

love Sisyphus xx